


A Kaleidoscope's Hypothesis of Conversion

by Download077, Kensalyn, LurkingEvil



Category: Destiny (Video Games), Overlord - Maruyama Kugane & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Typical Violence, F/M, Found Family, Friendship, Headcanon influenced, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Romance, SEVENTH COLUMN, more fandoms to be added - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27869001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Download077/pseuds/Download077, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kensalyn/pseuds/Kensalyn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/LurkingEvil/pseuds/LurkingEvil
Summary: This world always seemed to have something new and exciting waiting to be discovered.Like when they first got here and how Momonga found a giant hamster, or when they misplaced Zoba for a while in the atmosphere. Or that other time when Holly and Tyrannica happened upon a geyser of wild magic.“A wee bit of this!” Pandora’s Actor flourished. “And perhaps a generous splash of that!”Demiurge was skeptical. Tyrannica said no. Holly tossed caution to the wind and Zoba giggled, “What’s the worst that can happen?”This world always seemed to have something new and exciting waiting to be discovered.But they were soon to discover that other worlds did, too.
Relationships: Demiurge (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane)/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character(s) & Saint 14, Pandora's Actor (Overlord - Maruyama Kugane)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. A Kaleidoscope's Hypothesis of Conversion

|𝙰 𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚎’𝚜 𝙷𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗|

-𝙵𝚕𝚊𝚟𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚎𝚡𝚝-

_𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚍, 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚜._

Item quality: [Expert] 

Item type: Planar Artifact - Foundry

Description: Experience share

Prerequisites: Mirror of remote viewing; Bottled ~~[Unknown variable]~~

Rarity: Divine class

Primary function: Using this item allows players to convert their experience points into gold.

Secondary function: A fine aesthetic addition to any guild.

Crafter: Pandora’s Actor

Bonus attributes apply.

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Time until conversion is complete: Unknown. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Also known as: Myself, Kensalyn, and Lurkingevil are crazy enough to believe that we're cool and have amassed a collection of AU's with our characters (and some familiar faces 😮😈) and we want to share them with you all! Outside of the fun we're having, we're taking these AU's as an opportunity to sharpen our skills as writers and explore themes in other stories with our favorite characters.
> 
> So sit back, relax, grab a snackadoodledoo and get ready to explore a new world through the fractal lens of A Kaleidoscope's Hypothesis of Conversion. In Yggdrasil, this was an item used by guilds and players alike to convert their experience points into gold. Yet in the new world...


	2. Destiny: Chains of woe (Part one)

🔗|𝙰 𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚎’𝚜 𝙷𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗|🔗  


Chains of woe  


_Part one: Between light and dark _

* * *

I have walked between light and dark.

Or Light, and Dark, depending on who’s asking. I don’t think anyone really knows the difference. Or the truth. If there is someone who does, they’re not going to tell. I’ve killed beings claiming to be gods who did not know.

I’ve run from gods who claimed to know, but were themselves killed by others.

I don’t claim to know the truth. It is the nature of this universe that knowledge precipitates more questions. It’s always amusing and interesting to me that fragments of the Golden Age are full of accounts of harnessing powers beyond understanding. It reminds me of a pair of Fallen using an industrial melting press to warm up their cave.

Everyone thinks they have an answer.

The Hive are particularly obstinate about their philosophies. Sure, I carry a sword too. A pretty good one in fact. Torque has proven equal to many Ascendant blades. But I carry a pistol and rifle too. For those instances where running across an open field with just a sword is the last thing I want to do.

But I’ve also struck down plenty a Wizard who thinks some pretty fireworks are going to keep their top and bottom halves from being parted.

It’s all a mess. Hive with their backwards Sword Logic. Vex with their inability to contend against Ontological forces. Cabal and their regressive empire. How many super weapons need to fail before you try something else? At least some Fallen have given up on human genocide and are just trying to survive like we all are.

And then there’s the Last City. The Vanguard. The Guardians. I can’t say much about them being knee deep in one of the Dreadnought’s basements looking for a lost fireteam. A blind man searching for his candle by judging how badly the different flames burn him has more sense than all the Vanguard combined. But they have to work with what they have.

It’s all a mess.

I always liked Saturn. The Dreadnought is a rather ugly memorial, as all Hive structures are. But the gas giant’s beauty makes me think of the other exoplanets out in our galaxy. I once bartered passage through the Reef to stand before the Heliopause. That was an expensive trip. I was told not to look directly at it or else I’d go mad. Like that’d stop me.

It was beautiful, to be sure. Like looking out from the top of a canyon, or the edge of a deep sea trench. Knowing that one step would send me falling effectively forever. But I marveled at the sight all the same. There was no soul shattering revelation or sudden feeling of insignificance or insight into the nature of light and dark.

Or Light and Dark.

It simply was. Like so much we try and ascribe meaning to. I have yet to get an answer for what relationship the Light and Dark have with the other fundamental forces. They certainly use them. And would no doubt like their believers to think they alone hold mastery over the universe and the laws that govern it.

But trudging through the sewers of a moon-sized monument to one of those sides of disparity cast some doubt on that.

It seemed no matter the size of the beast or scope of the operation you still need someone to empty the toilets and take out the trash.

I suppose that made me one of those. But there are worse things. Like wading neck deep in a sewer that makes me glad I can’t smell through my helmet.

A scraping sound echoed down the sluice way. I heard the furtive whispers before I rounded the corner. In my hand not occupied with my hand cannon, I summoned a burning orb of witchlight that wouldn’t attract unwanted attention.

Huddling in a group, ragged, filthy, and starving, was the missing fireteam. They had two wounded on the ground, and the rest were walking casualties waiting to happen.

They were on guard at first. I looked at them, and gestured with my hand cannon. Two of the ones still standing picked up their fallen. Their ghosts were all hiding, but alive. I could hear the soft clicks and see the wisps of blue coming from each Guardian.

They all fell in line behind me without a word as I led them out of the pit.

Light and dark. Or Light and Dark.

I’m just an old monster crawling through a sewer. But at least my fate is my own. And Traveler willing, I’ll help a few others make their own fate as well.

* * *

𝕸𝖞 𝕺𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘:

[Voracity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008861/chapters/49964042) | [Black Sky Legion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666051/chapters/41665433)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, gentle reader, and thank you once again for joining me on yet another adventure. This time around I am pleased to announce that this will be a collaborative effort between myself, my lovely wife, and the talented Kensalyn. 
> 
> Voracity has many Destiny throwbacks sprinkled through out it. So it is to my pleasure to smash Overlord and Destiny together in this crossover.
> 
> Until next my words reach you, gentle reader, be safe, be well, and may the Traveler light your way.


	3. Destiny: The wall (Part one)

🌌|𝙰 𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚎’𝚜 𝙷𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗|🌌  


The wall  


_Part one: Lullaby of light _

* * *

Somewhere between the Reef and Mars, where the stars peer through the debris of the Golden age, a lone Space-Age Mariner class jump ship wanders. Coasting through the split cables and wreckage of a freighter long forgotten, the jump ship slows to a crawl. The energy streaming from the back engines calm to a comfortable glow. 

Whispers of gold and pink edge the nebula in the distance. Even this far out, the sun still finds a way to peek through the clouds. It’s pretty. Everything not cast in shadows from the wreckage around them is of a rich, purple hue.

It sure is pretty, alright. But also lonely. And sad.

Holly presses her hand against the tempered glass of her cockpit. A fog of warmth blooms from her palm.

It reminds her of the Traveler.

“Access code: Pisces!”

Screens that have been idle for hours now blink to life. The vanguard symbol pops up onto the center console, rotating as the ship's UI system loads. 

“Access code: Pisces. Accepted. Greetings, Pandora.”

“Haha! Salutations unto you, my flight simulating brethren! Now then! I leave this to you. Plot a course for Earth. Location: The last city. Position all controls to auto pilot. Cloaking: Active.”

“Setting a course for Earth. Location: The last city. Autopilot: On standby. Cloaking: Powering on. Shall I transfer you back to your shell?”

“Ah, nein. It is to my preference to remain abroad.”

“Access code?”

“Come now, mein Freund. Do you truly require a ritual of word transference once more?”

“Access code?”

Pandora scoffs. “Right you are, you primitive scallywag. Access Code: Gemini.”

“Access Code: Gemini. Accepted. Cloaking: Active. Powering down mainframe and shifting control of interior calibration to Administrative User: Pandora. Autopilot has now been enabled. May the Traveler light your way.”

A ripple of clear hexagons spread from the belly of the ship until they reach her wings. Banking to the left, the ship slides between a pair of parallel beams and is invisible by the time it passes through them.

The inner lights of the ship switch off. A mechanical sigh whines from the center console as the Space-Age Mariner’s UI system winds down to a close.

For a moment, all is quiet.

Holly releases a sigh. Her breath joins the fog spreading from her hand. It splinters into fissures that look like SpinMetal.

“Oh, Winterberry. How it pains my blackbox so to see you consumed with such melancholy,” The monitors blink in tune to the sound of Pandora’s melodious voice. “Tell me, what is troubling you?”

Another sigh. Holly squeaks a finger down the glass. She stares out into the endless stretch of stars, debris, and glittering purple clouds. “I don’t know how to explain it. I just feel..”

A pause. 

“Like I’m out there but I’m in here.”

“Ah. I see. You are still in mourning over the loss of your past life, hm?”

“I’m not sure. I just… feel like it’d help if I knew who I was.”

“Yet look at who you are now,” Pandora purrs. “Champion of light.” 

“But what does that even mean?” Holly slumps forward, peeling her hand away from the glass. She brings her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “I don’t get it. I mean, am I just a tool for the traveler? Is that it? I want it all to mean somethin’ more than that, but how can it when I don’t even know who I am?”

Silence.

Holly’s attention is pulled to the furthest monitor off to the left. She watches as invisible fingers punch in a set of coordinates that reveal the words _Postpone previous request. New destination: The edge. Hyperspace launch initiated. Countdown to jump: T-minus ten, nine, eight--_

“Where are we goin’?”

“There is something that I wish for you to witness.”

At the end of the countdown the Space-Age Mariner shoots forward, threading the eye of a freshly formed wormhole. Lights burst around the ship in streams. They zip by in a cylindrical tunnel, swirling, blurring together before bursting open and revealing an explosion of thousands of stars.

The wormhole closes behind them with a pinch and twist. Holly’s eyes widen. She croons her head up as the ship slows to a drift. Her jaw drops a hair.

Right now, there is no up or down. No left or right.

There’s only light.

“Never did I give ear to the whispering,” The screens blink with Pandora’s voice. “The tittle tattle, here and there. Nor the gossip. For that’s all it was, truly. I knew beyond the shadow of a doubt! That I would find you. I would not allow, nein! I would not permit for my light to collapse and become yet another trinket for the Cryptarchs.”

Pandora hushes into a whisper. “And yet, I felt a great fear.”

Holly turns away from the ocean of stars surrounding them. She forsakes holding her knees in favor of scooching down to the edge of her seat. The diamond eyelet that hangs in Pandora’s ghost shell pops onto the monitor before her as she touches it.

“Why? What were you scared of?”

“Geliebte. My fear was you.”

Holly pulls her hand away, confusion sweeping over her face. “But, I thought--”

“Do not allow for such a thought to touch your mind,” Absent her command, Holly’s seat is brought forward. He knees tap against the center console. Manual steering arms pop out from slots on either side of the dashboard.

Pandora grunts before chuckling. The right arm extends forward. “Won’t you take my hand?”

Holly blinks a few times. Then her expression calms into a warm, eyelid drooping smile. Curling her fingers around the steering arm, she fits them into the cloth lined grooves. She gives them a squeeze.

“If,” Pandora ponders. “Such a minuscule word to comprise far too much, ja?”

Holly looks to the stars. After a pause, she dips her head into a nod.

“What if I happened to be inadequate? Alas, consequently, what if my fated guardian detested me? Rejected our neural symbiosis? If. If consumed me.”

“And then I saw you,” Pandora chokes on his words. “Ohhh, my love. I had found you. I had found you! There you were, laying in the grass, hair like autumn brushed across a face already painted with a constellation. And so young and beautiful?! What had brought you to such an early end, I wondered. And do you recall what happened next, liebling? It was at that precise moment that you cast your eyes on me.”

“You brought in a single, shuddering breath. I still bear in mind the way your lips parted. For it was then that I grew ever still. Frozen. In a single moment, what if carried me down a string of possibilities more infinite than a Vex simulation.”

Holly wipes away the tears trickling down her face. “And then I asked you if you were a star.”

“And then you asked me if I were a star,” Pandora chuckles wetly. “And now just look at you. Just look at you! The brightest one yet. Why, I have never experienced a light so incredibly blinding until I found you. And to come from such humble origins? Liebling! While we may not know or understand who you were, rest assured that the journey to discover who you will become is one worth its weight in gold.”

Hot tears stream down Holly’s cheeks. She continues to stare at the stars. They’re just… out there. Out there like fireworks trapped in animation against a backdrop of black. And they look so close. Yet they’re so very far away.

She reaches for the closest one.

A block of text blinks onto the screen to the left. _Access code: Proteus. Accepted._ _Resume travel to the previous destination. Location: Earth. Destination: The last city. Transferring direct control of interior calibrations to the Space-Age Mariner’s UI. Expelling current Administrative user: Pandora. Sequence initiated._

A mechanical sigh filters through the air. Holly’s seat rolls back to its normal position and the manual steering arms retract into their holsters. Taken with a pale orange glow, a hologram of their solar system fades into view above the many screens dotting the dashboard. Without further delay, they begin calibrating the necessary trajectory to bring them back home.

The ship banks to the right in an arc, engines humming. A smooth vibration rumbles the cockpit. Even with an upgraded jump ship, it’ll still take them around three or so hours to get back to the last city. But that’s okay. Holly sniffles a bit before rolling onto her hip. She brings her knees up to her chest again and tucks her chin down.

The glossy orb within Pandora’s Ghost shell flickers. Holly strokes her thumbs along his triangular accents, blue wisps of light painting the palms of her hands. Petering into focus, the diamond symbol of his iris blinks into view.

Pandora’s metal plates stretch around him as he yawns. “Ahhhh, das ist gut. Feel free to continue, ja?”

A tear splashes against his sphere. It rolls down the face of his screen in a bead, and Holly chokes up a bit on a wet giggle.

“Nein,” Pandora coos. “Do not weep, meine wunderschöne Blume.”

Holly cups Pandora in her hands, bringing him closer to her face. Her nose brushes against his glass core as she whispers, “I get it. Why you were so scared. Because, I mean, w-what if--”

“Hush and lay those haunting thoughts to rest. My fears in turn do not get to become yours, young lady. That hatchet, my love. That hatchet has been buried.”

“Then I’m diggin’ it up,” Holly seethes. “Cause what if I don’t live up--”

The wisps of blue around Pandora brighten. “You already do.”

Lights surround them in a tunnel as the Space Age Mariner launches into hyperspace. Endless streaks of neon fly by like comet trails of ice. Holly closes her eyes. She doesn’t say anything else, allowing for silence to take them. But she holds Pandora all the closer, rowing her thumbs along the blunt edges of his fins.

She falls asleep soon after.

“Star light, star bright,” Pandora softly sings. “First star I see tonight.”

* * *

˜”*°•.˜”*°• Hey! I draw art for my stories sometimes. •°*”˜.•°*”˜

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/) | [Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

My Overlord stories:

[Child of Jörmungandr](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16873440/chapters/39625050) | [Across the Universe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959855/chapters/65801506) | [Tales of Artorian](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18738142/chapters/44447083) | [Humanity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008588/chapters/55013569)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> I've been playing Destiny since early November of 2014. Right around when the Vex Mythoclast got nerfed (Rip). I started shortly after launch because my husband and I at the time only had one Xbox 360. Thaaat quickly changed. 😂💖 And I've loved the game ever since. I can't tell ya'll how many hours I spent farming spirit bloom on Venus. You know that place just past the Archive? Where the enemy moves against each other every now and again? Oh yeah. That place was my jam. 
> 
> I have some f e e l i n g s though where the story is concerned. Don't get me wrong! Some of it is AMAZING. Most of it, actually. Buuuuut it's all outside of the actual game and you have to hunt around for it on the Ishtar collective or be smart like Kensalyn and watch analysis videos by My name is Byf on Youtube. However! Some things aren't as fleshed out as I'd personally like them to be. This is why I chose to make Pandora a ghost. I CRAVE the relationship between the ghost and the guardian like I do chocolate during that time of the month. I feel there's a lot of lost potential in Destiny where this dynamic is concerned, especially in the latest DLC Beyond Light for D2. And while I understand this is due to having a mostly silent protagonist for the full immersion of second person.... yeah. I don't like it. 
> 
> Thus we have Pandora-bot! I debated on a few things for him, number one being a Warlock Exo and number two being a Warmind. I also toyed with the idea of making him a Cryptarch which _does_ make the most sense for his character... but I'm the author and I do what I want! 😂 And my god, he's just so damn precious like this? And he's only going to get better. _Don't get me wrong, Pandora Warmind would have been WILD and loads of fun. I mean, I just love the idea of him dropping a Warsat near Holly after she investigates his compound with a message encrypted into it that asks for her to come back, it's just been so long since he's had company. Thus she returns and they spend time together and develop a friendship that turns romantic because I am WEAK SAUCE for AI/Human relationships._ Which may or may not be telling of Holly and Pandora's dynamic in this AU. 😏 
> 
> As for Holly, I wanted to explore what it would mean to a freshly resurrected guardian to not understand what's going on, why they're even here, etc. A bit of an identity crisis that will take her down a path to coming to terms with being included in something greater than the sum of all of her parts. 
> 
> If ya'll played Destiny and would like to leave a comment, I'd love to know what you're favorite weapon was/is! Personally, it's SO HARD for me to decide! So I'm just gonna leave ya'll with a list of a few of my favorites: 
> 
> Handcanons: Fatebringer (Who doesn't love this weapon?) but I also love Malfeasance. But I've got a weak spot for that one because I did the quest for it twice. 
> 
> Pulse Rifles: Vigilance Wing, Red Death, and The Hopscotch Pilgrim. Seriously. I had a god roll on the Hopscotch. Small bore, head seeker, and zen moment. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> Sniper Rifle: Black Hammer. This was my first weapon drop from the Crota raid and was back when I was REALLY new to Destiny. I had only been playing the game a month so when the raid dropped and I got Black Hammer my raid group FLIPPED their shit and I was like wait, what's Black Hammer? 😂 Also: RIP The Black Hammer Nerf!! Ahhh!!! I WEEP. Anyone else remember that bad bitch during solar burn night falls? _Pepperidge farm remembers._ I mean, Black Spindle and subsequently following Whisper of the Worm were pretty dope... but they don't hold a candle to OG Black Hammer. 
> 
> Fusion rifle: -sang to the tune of Royals by Lorde, or better yet, the parody done by Weird Al-
> 
> 𝙿𝚛𝚊𝚎𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚒𝚕, (𝚏𝚘𝚒𝚕) 
> 
> 𝙶𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚋𝚒𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚍 
> 
> 𝙱𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 
> 
> 𝙾𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 
> 
> 𝙶𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚎𝚍 𝙸𝚌𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚛 (𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚛) 
> 
> 𝙶𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗 𝚊𝚖𝚖𝚘 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝! 
> 
> 𝚂𝚘 𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝 (𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝, 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚝) 
> 
> 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚃𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚅𝚊𝚞𝚕𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙶𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜-- 𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵. 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘗𝘳𝘢𝘦𝘥𝘺𝘵𝘩'𝘴 𝘙𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘨𝘦 𝘈𝘎𝘈𝘐𝘕? 𝘚𝘌𝘙𝘐𝘖𝘜𝘚𝘓𝘠? 
> 
> ...Yes I came up with that one on the spot. You're welcome. Until next time! 💖 


	4. Destiny: Shadow's Edge (Part one)

☯|𝙰 𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚎’𝚜 𝙷𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗|☯  


Shadow's Edge  


_Part one: Bounty Hunter _

* * *

The surface of Venus wasn’t always like this. It used to be very different.

Before the Traveler came, it was uninhabitable. Air as thick as water, heat like a steady furnace, pressure far beyond what most life could ever hope to withstand. Sky-bound rain laden with sulphur occasionally was underlit by a strike of lightning, esching from a fruitless volcanic event. Only the winds had seemed interested in creating some sort of change, circling their planet at hurricane strengths, attempting to press the rotation beyond it’s nearly six thousand-hour days. But millennia after millennia, the rock below had remained heedless to the desperate pace.

Then, the Traveler had begun terraforming. Unbidden, coming to the aid of the human race and all that Earth had nurtured, it created new homes. It touched it’s light upon Jupiter, Mercury, Venus, it labored over Europa, Io—planets and moons alike felt it’s blessing, gravitational pulls bent to it’s guidance. Soon there was an abundance of heavenly spheres between which humanity could dance amidst the stars. Teams from Earth and Mars had been sent to them all, to measure the capabilities of these new environments, to lay the ground for colonies, and to discover what else could be learned from this stunning miracle.

Venus had become a garden planet. Much of the sulfur from it’s previous life remained, tinting the underground with blue magma and emerging frequently in geysers to display vibrantly hued deposits, but beyond such abnormalities it was very much like home to those who came to cultivate it. Plants, aided by biomechanists and herbological engineers, found niches in the ecosystems, and animals quickly joined the ranks, each species carefully introduced and monitored to maintain the balance of the surprisingly adaptable environment. At such success, further territory was sought out. Further limits were tested.

And then, as they always seem to do, things went wrong. They pushed too far. The Vex emerged, the planet rebelled, and the people who had no means of escape were left to reap what their gluttonous curiosity had sown.

Venus hadn’t always been like this, he mused, as his body hit the ground. Once, things had been different. Once, it had been home.

The dim lighting of Vex halls reflected in a pale blue as his pursuer leveled her gun, casual steps echoing off the stone. “You almost lost me there once or twice,” she sang. “I was getting worried a hobgoblin would nail that pretty ass before I could!” She kicked the spiked pulse rifle out of his reach. He tried to pull himself up, but teetered to one side, stumbling to a knee in the process. The Guardian’s boot on his chest forced him further.

“Looks like your deeds have finally caught up to you.”

He coughed, turning a frown her way. Ah, yes. Now began the gloating, self-righteous speech. Guardians were boringly predictable. The barrel of her gun tucked against his neck, and he allowed it to force his chin up.

“Ooh, a pretty face too,” she cooed. “Even for an Awoken. That really is a shame. You know…” The hunter leaned in a bit closer, voice lowering as she did, “if you promised to be good, I might let you live. Just for a while. Long enough for us both to have some fun.”

Well, that was unpredicted.

He raised an eyebrow. “Well. There is an offer I’ve never had proposed. Congratulations, on being the first at something.”

The hammer of her gun pulled back, and she giggled. “I’ll be the first at more than that, I’d say. After all… aren’t I the first to have you begging on your knees?”

Then it happened. A small light at her side sparked into existence.

He smiled. It was about time.

“No; I’m afraid to say you haven’t even succeeded in that.”

The boom deafened her ears.

She dodged to the side, having moved out of instinct before even recognizing a gun had appeared in his hand. But the shrapnel still hit her, still clinked on the ground at her side. It was only as the dark eye rolled to a stop that she realized what had happened. What the man had taken aim against.

Now his boot dropped, sticking her wrist to the floor, compromising the grip on her own weapon. She snapped a hand to her hip, but the other boot kicked the knife from her fingers before it had completely left its sheath.

“How many Guardians will fall for that simplistic ruse of helplessness, I wonder?” sighed the man as he pried the gun away. He took a step back, releasing her but keeping her handgun trained as he put his own back into his pocket. Then he leaned down and picked up his original weapon. The pulse rifle shimmered to life under his touch.

“How could you—?!”

“You were about to end my life, and still are stunned that I might instead take yours? Do you somehow believe your existence sits at a higher value than another, in the grand scheme of the universe? How trite. How typical.” She was grasping with shaking hands at the broken pieces of her ghost, trying to keep two white shards together as they dropped away from the cracked iris. He motioned with the gun. “You can gather them if you wish. I suppose it will indeed make less work for me. But first, remove your gear.”

“You—you k-killed my… You complete monster!! This can’t be happe—… This isn’t real, I— You can’t just—!”

The shot to the ground beside her made her jump in fright. Her eyes were wide as she looked at him again.

“Now, if you please.”

In her dizzy haze, it took a few minutes longer than it should have. But soon, a hood, gauntlets, chest piece, boots, and leggings heaped together on the ground, next to a shattered ghost shell. The hunter held her undershirt tightly and looked at her gear, lined up like nothing more than trinkets at a flea market. Her eyes were still fixed on the cold remains of her ghost.

He pulled a leather pouch from a space in the wall, and had her step back as he put her belongings inside. Then he backed away from the hunter, holstered his weapon, and began to walk away.

She danced on a bare foot, then tried taking a quick step after him. The pulse rifle appeared again, fixed on her before he turned around. She froze.

“Stay where you are.”

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Leaving. I thought that to be rather obvious.”

“Y-you’d just—leave the job half finished? That seems pretty pathetic for an infamous Guardian killer, don’t you think? If—If you leave me out here,” she threatened, voice quivering, “I’d find you. I would find you, and—”

“Kill me?” His head cocked to the side, finishing the sentence as though he’d had this encounter a hundred times. “If you did in fact succeed in making it out of these ruins alive, without your armor, or a weapon, or a ghost to aid the dumbfoundingly reckless habits of a Guardian, even more so one of your quality…” He grinned, turning back down the hall. “Then at last, you would have found a first you could be proud of.”

“ _Wait!!_ ” The cry was wretched, panicked. It was enough to garner a pause. “Wait. Wait, please, I… I meant what I said earlier. It could still work. I could be the one who’s good. Good for you.” She swallowed the tremor in her throat, bringing a silk to her voice and a smile to her lips.

“You’re a handsome man. You seem so lonely, too. I could do things for you that would make me worth it. More than worth it. I could. Can. You’ve more than made your point. But you don’t need to do this. I’ll—I’ll be good. I’m everything you’ll ever want, right here for the taking. You’d like that, right? And all you have to do is—” She jumped, a mechanical screeching in the distance breaking their solitude. A low electronic rumble blanketed the area. She lowered suddenly to her knees, tilting her head down submissively and pressing her arms against the sides of her chest to better display the endowment. It didn’t hide her anxious breaths.

“Just let me come with you. Just… please. Don’t leave me here alone.”

It was silent for a moment. He watched her. Then he put away his rifle.

She felt her smile become genuine as he walked towards her. “Anything you want, I’ll be for you,” she hummed. “That’s right, this is what you want, isn’t it? Someone to bend to your will, to make good on your every order. I can tell. I’m yours to do with as you please. As long as—as I’m alive… I’m your prize.”

His boots stopped in front of her. He dropped to his haunches, face to face with the nearly naked woman. He took in a breath.

“You poor, pathetic creature.”

The handgun dropped between them, and he rose once again. “If memory serves—and it does—you have one shot left.”

She looked at the familiar gun with horror. “What do you m— No… no. You were just about to take me, you— You won’t leave me here, you can’t—”

“The Vex will be arriving soon.” He pulled on the edges of his gauntlets, casually assuring their grip as he faced back down the hall. “Before that occurs, I suggest you take advantage of this unusual lapse of mercy… and make good use of your single bullet.”

His footsteps echoed against the stone and metal. It was several yards before he heard the scream in her voice, the clatter of the gun rising in her hand, the ring of a single shot as he moved to the side out of it’s trajectory. The increasing fright amidst the sound of her anger.

He was in the fading sunlight before the screams turned to pain, before the howls of mechanical beings announced the discovery of the defenseless hunter. He watched the rays of light fade past the horizon of the fallen garden world as the two sounds flooded the ruins.

The screams went silent long before the howls.

* * *

˜”*°•My Overlord stories•°*”˜

[Real Life on the Seventh Floor](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17506664/chapters/41237897) | [The Devil's Advocate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23402635/chapters/56085214) | [Seventh Floor Snippets](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666999/chapters/41667830)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ 🔥RLotSF Tumblr🔥](https://reallifeonthetheseventhfloor.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ♡♡ Just a place to keep inspiration for my fic, Demiurge stuff, all that jazz. ♡♡
> 
> Sooooo.... I guess since the other two said cool stuff in their author's notes, I probably should too? Yeah ok, yeah I can do that! Well, I dunno about 'cool', but I can sure say stuff!!
> 
> I cannot even tell you how happy I am to be posting this collab with two of my favorite people in the entire flippin universe. Between us, we've come up with so many one-off ideas that inevitably spiral into full-fledged stories that I myself sometimes lose track of them all. (Luckily LurkingEvil and Download077 have much better memories then me! Y'all have them to thank for getting this one actually posted! And for the ones in the future we've set our sights on!)
> 
> I remember when I first discovered the game Destiny; I had heard it was a popular game, and got it for my brother that Christmas. And then got it to play with him. And then started playing it with my boyfriend (who became my husband!). And he introduced his friends to it. I also played it lots on my own, running around the tower like a noob no matter how many hours I put in, emoting with every player in sight, eyes sparkling at everyone's armor, and trying so freakin hard to keep that glowy purple nebula orb thing in the air.
> 
> I played a little of Destiny 2, but, well... yeah, I think a lot of people fell off at that point. But what goes around comes around, and my husband's friend reintroduced him to the game, which got me interested again, and Download and I started talking about how we both used to play, and—
> 
> Before I knew it, I was at work listening to a several hour long lore compilation by Youtuber my name is byf, wondering how I had gotten myself dragged so deeply into yet another world.
> 
> And now, y'all get to reap what I've sown. That's right. Suffer for my sins. _Sufffeeeerrrrr._


	5. Destiny: The wall (Part two)

🌌|𝙰 𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚎’𝚜 𝙷𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗|🌌  


The wall  


_Part two: Lost and found _

* * *

Light and dark.

Everyone has their own opinion on how it all started. Some say they’re two sides of the same coin. Others call it a game played by beings beyond our understanding. A few have said it all began with a book. And then there are those that are still searching. Digging through Hive tombs and scouring Vex artificial locations.

Everyone has their own opinion on how it all started. Well, almost everyone.

Neon signs of pink, blue, and yellow flicker above the line of restaurants strung down the Tower’s northern food district. Despite their flashy advertisements, most of them are closed. But that’s to be expected when it’s a quarter past three in the morning.

A glass bottle tinks along the street as Holly nudges it down the way. It’s been a few weeks since Pandora found her and she still doesn’t know what to make of all of this. It’s a lot to take in. Like, a lot a lot. 

For starters? Sure, she’s… however old she is now. Proof of a time lived before this one wears itself in her blood. In the way she walks and talks. Pandora estimates that she died somewhere in her early twenties and his guess is as good as any. But that life is gone. Ripped from her mind.

And this new one is a second birth. A second birth where she skipped everything that would make her who she is today. As a result, she’s now left trying to pick up those pieces, or, actually…

Holly sighs, her posture deflating. She has to make them herself. 

Under her current pressures, however, that’s proving difficult.

_“The weight of the world rests on your shoulders, Guardian,” Zavala had said. “Now get out there and protect the city. The people need you. The people need guardians.”_

The weight of the world rests on your shoulders. Heh. She wanted to tell him that’s heavy to start out with, but he seemed like the kinda guy who would have said something like: _“And the traveler chose you because you can bear that weight.”_

Yeah. But it doesn’t make it any less heavy. 

It’d help if she even knew why she was doing this in the first place. Just… something to believe in. Something to form her opinions off of other than the talk of those around her.

She’d like to ask who she used to be what she thinks of all of this. 

Life and death. It’s just like the light and dark. Two sides of the same coin.

...Are we even on the right side, though? What if the dark is trying to take us out cause in their eyes, we’re the bad guys? Doesn’t everyone think they're the good guys? Isn’t whoever wins in the right?

Holly gives the bottle a nudge again when she comes across it. Rolling down the street, it tinks every time it hits a groove in the cobblestone until it disappears from sight.

Who knows.

A few moments later, a streak of blue comes swooping down next to her. “A thousand condolences, Winterberry. It seems that the only diner in the plaza that remains operating at this hour is the canteen!”

“Yikes,” Holly frowns. “A protein shake it is, then.”

“My deepest apologies, Mademoiselle.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. It’s my fault for thinkin’ we could grab a bite this late,'' Holly sighs. Rather than continue down the path of the Tower’s northern food district, they cut left and approach a self-serve vending station. At least these are always open..

They’re a little pricey, however. Not exactly worth the glimmer. But when you’re hungry late at night and shrugged off stocking up food for the dorms you’ll take what you can get. 

“I really hope they’re not out of chocolate,” Holly whines as she keys in her order. “The vanilla ones are the worst.”

She presses her hand against the screen. After scanning her palm and retrieving the necessary funds from her account, a twenty four ounce cup drops from behind a sheet of glass. Kicking on with a whir, the vending station delivers a thick stream of muddy chocolate into the cup. 

Holly takes a deep breath. She then grabs the cup and throws it back, chugging it all down in one go. Luckily, they weren’t out of chocolate and she didn’t have to suffer through the powdery taste of vanilla. Vanilla protein shakes are the worst. However… it’s still a protein shake. And protein shakes are pretty much the worst.

Holly tosses her cup into the nearest trash can. Wiping her mouth on her forearm, she turns back to face the self- serve vending machine. Holly orders another three protein shakes, back to back, gulping each one down without taking a breather.

It’s always like this. Or, as long as always has been for her. Just going through the motions. Eat to maintain a body suffused with light. Point her gun and shoot. Collect this for the tower. Protect that for the people. Work out in the between times. Rinse and repeat.

A tink rings through the air. Holly turns her attention towards the sound. The hint of a smile pulls at her lips as streaks of blue light leave Pandora’s ghost shell and illuminate the bottle from earlier. He’s always doing stuff like this, you see. Scanning things. He’s told her it’s to their benefit because knowledge is power. Buuuut she personally thinks it’s just a hobby of his.

Holly moves over to Pandora and squats next to him. He brightens, his metal plates orbiting around him.

“And what do you think you’re up to?”

“Oh, well, ahaha, you _see_ ,” Pandora stammers. “I-I, Why, I just so happened to trust that understanding the composition of this here bottle might very well come in handy one fine day! After all, thou must remain ever vigilant in manufacturing said containers so as to avoid oxidation or the ever nefarious parasites of contamination when handling Port!”

Holly blinks a few times. Then she giggles, “Yeah, okay. Suure.”

“The inflection behind your tone insinuates that you believe I was in fact performing this very act for my own selfish indulgence? Hmph!” Pandora rotates his eye skyward. “Why. I never.”

“C’mere you,” Holly giggles, reaching a finger towards Pandora. “Don’t be like that.”

He’s still refusing to look at her. “I remain blissfully unaware of that of which you are suggesting.”

Her smile widens. Rather than say anything more, Holly simply lifts her hair, revealing a pocket between the curve of her neck and shoulder. Pandora’s eye flickers between the spot and nowhere in particular. Holly dances her eyebrows.

Silence.

Pandora darts into the spot and burrows away, hiding himself. Holly lowers her hair and heads back to the dorms.

She can’t be certain of what all of this… light and dark stuff means. But as Pandora’s cold, smooth shell brushes against the nape of her neck? A realization takes her.

Holly stops in the middle of the street and glances towards the Traveler. 

A few week ago Pandora found her and brought her back to life. And while she’s still searching for her own answers amidst this new birth? A piece of her puzzle just slid into place.

The Traveler gave her a star.

And she’ll do anything to protect him.

* * *

  
  


Chains with trinkets of strange coins, clouds of spirit bloom, and other knick knacks sway from the ceiling down the alleyway up ahead. It’s dark, save for a puddle of static fizzling on the wall. Every few seconds it drips. Twitches. And quivers. 

Holly takes a step back. “...Has this always been here?”

Pandora’s eye shines through a sliver of Holly’s hair. He brings a few strands along with him as he slips out. Floating over to a nearby chain, he begins scanning it.

“...Nein. It has not. This… Hmm. I am not certain,” He remarks. “Astounding, nein! Fascinating! From what I’m gathering, this alloy in particular was a prime resource that found itself exploited during the age of gold!”

“No kiddin’,” Holly reaches up and pokes one of the chains. It teleports down a few feet.

“Whoa.”

“Whoa, indeed!” Pandora zips off towards it. 

Despite the… curiosity surrounding them, Holly can’t help but smile. Pandora’s scanning everything he can to his heart's content, darting around like a Thrall chasing a laser dot sight.

Holly proceeds forward with caution on her heels. She ducks where she can to avoid the chains, yet they still clink against her shoulder pauldrons. Only a few teleport around and rearrange themselves. It’s oddly pretty, the sounds they produce when tapping her armor. It’s melodious. Like wind chimes.

A sliver of amethyst brushes against Holly’s forehead. She nudges it aside and continues on her way. An empty pit forms in her stomach when she reaches the splatter of static on the wall. There’s something… off about it. Wrong. 

Holly stares into that quivering blackness. Wisps of white and teal hiss around the edges. They swirl together and form a hand that reaches for her. 

“Oh my god,” Holly stumbles back. “Did you just see that?!”

Pandora zooms over to her. He immediately begins scanning the static. “Vergib mir, liebling. This venue is a treasure trove of peculiarities! Therefore, I was unable to witness--”

Pandora falls into a pause. He retreats from the shivering puddle and hides back in Holly’s hair. “I am unable to obtain any substantial information on the subject matter at hand. And yet, I am detecting traces of Hive mischief at play. I am not fond of this new development. Holly. We should make haste and abandon this site.”

“Yeah? Y-Yeah, good plan, let’s scram--”

Holly stops. Her brows furrow together. 

She can hear someone humming, somewhere. Softly. Like a flower blooming in the dead of night. Or a piano weeping. It’s haunting. Beautiful, but sad. And lonely.

“Do you hear that?” Holly whispers. “It’s so..”

Pandora wiggles back further into Holly’s hair. “Forgotten?”

“Lost.”

Rather than turn around, Holly heads towards the humming. As she draws closer, the chains part like curtains to reveal a path leading to the left. Holly rounds the corner and pauses before taking another step.

At the end of the hallway rests a rotunda with bookshelves lining the walls. They’re full of dusty tomes, twisted statues, and jars of preserved Hive parts. In the middle of the room there’s an oak table blanketed by a black cloth. Sitting atop the table glitter an assortment of trinkets. Strange coins. A bejeweled hummingbird. Shaved off hunks of relic iron. A deck of cards and a Vex Goblin eye with chords dangling over the lip of the table. And many, many other curiosities. 

Stranger still to come, there’s.. A sword. A sword as tall as a man leaning against one of the bookshelves. It reminds Holly of a Hive Knight sword, only this one has been overcome with an overgrowth of green tubes and wires. They twist in on each other, coiling up the sword and looping through holes in the blade. Additionally, there are runes that make themselves known with an idle glow down the blade. 

A rumble purrs from the sword. From within the hilt, a light blinks on. The hint of a ghost eyelet flickers into focus and looks at Holly.

At which point Holly turns her attention to the source of the humming.

There’s someone with their back towards Holly facing the table. They’re a head taller than the sword and draped in dark robes that seem to have been stitched together. Pooling around the figures feet, the robes appear to be..fluttering. Fluttering as if their wearer is floating.

Sickly green energy crackles from a bond wrapped around their upper arm. The glow fizzles. And pops. 

Pandora peeks out from Holly’s hair and whispers, “..A Warlock.”

The Warlock hovers a hand over the deck of cards. Their humming falls silent as they flip one over.

Holly stands on the tips of her toes to steal a glance at the card. The Warlock holds it over their shoulder for Holly to see. 

She doesn’t know what it means. But the card reminds her of the eye of Jupiter, had it been purple. There’s a symbol in the middle, too. A hexagon bordered and split in white.

“Good evening, Titan,” The Warlock whispers. “What brings you here?”

Holly looks around the room again. Her eyes travel from the bookshelves, to the sword, and then to a stained glass window in front of the table. Although the sun has yet to rise, light filters through in streams. It’s so bright that Holly can see the specks of dust trapped in the air. 

Holly takes a step towards the Warlock. “Are you lost like me?”

The Warlock’s feet touch the ground. Spilling out from a ponytail cuff atop their head, braided white hair dusts across their shoulder blades as they turn to face Holly.

Black eyes like that of glistening oil greet Holly’s. The Warlock smiles warmly, thoughtfully. 

“Perhaps.”

* * *

˜”*°•.˜”*°• Hey! I draw art for my stories sometimes. •°*”˜.•°*”˜

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/) | [Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

My Overlord stories:

[Child of Jörmungandr](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16873440/chapters/39625050) | [Across the Universe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959855/chapters/65801506) | [Tales of Artorian](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18738142/chapters/44447083) | [Humanity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008588/chapters/55013569)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> Stranger things than a hallway that moves around the Tower have happened in Destiny. 
> 
> Pandora hiding in Holly's hair is my favorite thing ever and never again will I apologize for my self indulgent fluff like that. 
> 
> Until next time! 💖


	6. Destiny: The wall (Part three)

🌌|𝙰 𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚎’𝚜 𝙷𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗|🌌  


The wall  


_Part three: Starlight _

* * *

For those who can find Tyrannica the Tyrant of chains, the first reading is always free.

Red blinks from the Vex eye on the table. A rat skitters over to the wires and begins sniffing them. Tyrannica nudges a foot towards the rat and it scurries away, slipping into a nook between the bookshelves. Meanwhile Pandora’s away at work cataloguing all the gadgets, gizmos, and wonders among Tyrannica’s library. 

Retrieving the deck of cards from upon the table, Tyrannica shuffles them. Once satisfied she brings the cards to her lips. For reasons unknown to Holly, Tyrannica blows on them and chases away what might have been dust with the back of her fingers.

Tyrannica offers the cards to Holly. “Empty your mind and shuffle to your heart's content. You’ll know when to give them back to me.”

Holly brings the deck into her hands, smoothing a thumb over the top card. The edges are rounded. Yet sharp. They feel new but Holly can tell they’re old by their worn color. Faded black, like moth eaten leather. 

She examines them a bit more as she relaxes her thoughts. Embedded into the middle of the top card rests an acid green hieroglyph. It occasionally quivers. Wisps of white rise off of it like steam.

Holly closes her eyes. Yeahh. She’s just gonna choose to not ask questions.

She fills her lungs and begins shuffling the cards. For a time, she focuses on her breathing to empty her thoughts. Not that she has many, mind you. Most of her thoughts are just shadows. But not the kind of shadows that are cast by tall trees or monsters.

The kind that live in people. Doubt. Confusion. And purpose. 

Holly presses the cards back to Tyrannica. She opens her eyes when she feels Tyrannica’s hand clasp over hers.

“No. They’re not ready.”

“..How do you know that?”

“Oh, child. I know many things. And in speaking this, it should be understood that I know even less. Yet, this is something I know and I know it well.”

Tyrannica’s eyes ripple. “Try again.”

Holly frowns before giving in and trying once more. Only this time, she chooses not to allow her mind to wander towards those dark corners. No. Instead, she turns her thoughts towards her Ghost. Her star, Pandora. Pandora, and how he’s zipping around and scanning everything he can. 

Holly smiles. It makes her happy to know he’s enjoying himself. And he’ll most likely tell her all about the cool stuff he found later. He’ll tell her stories about what he discovered tonight before she falls asleep. And that? That makes her feel warm. Happy. It reminds her of the Traveler’s light and how it brought them together.

The Traveler’s light. It’s so quiet. And bright. Like angel wings wrapped around her. 

Holly’s body stills. 

Silence.

Holly hands Tyrannica back the deck of cards. They share a smile.

Hovering a hand over the top card, Tyrannica hums. She closes her eyes. “Hmm. Yes. This will do nicely.”

“Understand that I am but a conduit for this power. The future is.. Fickle. Unbalanced. Sometimes a single, innocuous decision can turn a life upside down. In more cases than not, reality itself. Therefore,” Tyrannica releases a breath through her nostrils. “Your Destiny is for you to decide. May this reading help guide your way--...”

Tyrannica blinks her eyes open to a mechanical chirping. Holly stifles a giggle.

Streaks of blue light bathe Tyrannica’s tarot card deck as Pandora scans them. Face absent of expression, Tyrannica gently pushes Pandora away.

She clears her throat. “As I was--”

Pandora reappears on the other side of the cards and continues scanning. 

“Oh my god,” Holly whispers around another giggle. “I’m so sorry.”

“You have a curious one.”

“Yeah,” Holly grunts as she tries to swipe Pandora. He dodges her and keeps scanning. “You’re tellin’ me.”

Tyrannica chuckles. She then turns her attention to Pandora and leans closer to him. Pointing towards a mobile of the solar system above them, she whispers, “I spy with my little eye..”

“Ooohhhh,” Pandora’s light brightens. He floats up towards the mobile and begins scanning it.

“Now then,” Tyrannica hovers her hand back atop the cards. “As we were.”

Holly glances towards Pandora. “I’ve gotta try that with him sometime.”

“I can hear you, liebling.~” 

Tyrannica chuckles again, a bit louder this time. Without further delay, she swipes the top card off of the deck as if she were striking a match. 

Holly watches Tyrannica’s face as she reads the card. How her expression blanks. How her eyes stir and swirl. How the lines on her forehead crease with concentration. 

How she dawns with the hint of a kind smile. “You are young. Impressionable. Both in this life and your last--”

“Wait!” Holly exclaims. “You know who I used to be?!”

Tyrannica’s shoulders falter a hair. “No. I do not.”

Silence.

“I will not spare you from the truth. Steady your resolve, Titan,” Tyrannica looks into Holly’s eyes. “I have come across many a weary guardian in your position. They mourn the absence of who they were and lose track of the Traveler’s light in search of that answer. And never does it bring a satisfying conclusion.”

Tyrannica flips the card around and reveals it to Holly. Against the backdrop of a dark nebula rests a single star. It almost seems holographic in nature, ready to jump out and shine between the two of them.

“Should you allow it, your future is bright. Greatness, be it self worth or glory, awaits you. And yet,” Tyrannica takes a step closer. “This will come at a cost. Loneliness. It cloaks you much like a shadow. However, the path ahead is for you to decide. The choice is yours. You do not have to be lost, Starlight.”

...

Holly’s quiet for a moment. It’s like… all of those thoughts that Tyrannica told her to empty have just come rushing back. And that’s the thing about the darkness, ya know? They say light travels faster than it, but.. It’s always there first. Waiting. Lurking.

“...How did you get over it?” Holly whispers. “Ya know. The whole… not knowing who we used to be thing.”

“I never did,” Tyrannica rests a hand on Holly’s shoulder guard. “It is a gift and curse at times, this life. But it is yours. Make no mistake about it. Every decision you make, just like the one that brought you here today, was yours. And that is what defines you. Your actions.”

Tyrannica grips Holly’s shoulder guard. “Keep moving forward.”

Holly sighs. She then puts on a fake smile and nods her head. Tyrannica’s probably right. But… Why do the steps forward feel so far apart? Ya know what? Nevermind. Maybe it’s just not her place to worry about all of this. Maybe she should just _Get out there, guardian. The people need you. The people need guardians._

But where do guardians turn when they need someone? The Traveler? It’s never whispered a word to anyone. Not even the Speaker and that’s kinda supposed to be his thing. And never mind the Vanguard. 

Anyways.

Tyrannica shuffles her tarot card deck and lays it back to rest atop her table. Smoothing out the wrinkles of the table runner, she allows for her hand to wander over her assortment of treasures. Her fingers dance over the relic iron, brush over an ascendant shard, and then she stops when she reaches the bejeweled hummingbird.

It’s a pretty little thing. Gold with silver spinmetal leaves for wings. The most striking thing about it, though? Are the sparkling purple gemstones for eyes.

Tyrannica lifts it up by aid of a lavender ribbon fastened to the back of it. She smiles something thoughtful at the trinket before turning her attention to Holly. “What are your plans for the rest of the evening?”

“I was just gonna head back to the dorms and crash--”

Holly glances between Tyrannica’s oily black eyes and the hummingbird. 

Every decision you make, she said. Your actions. That’s what will define you.

“--But, if you have somethin’ in mind?”

Tyrannica smiles once more. She holds up the hummingbird pendant as Pandora swoops down to begin scanning it.

“Join me for a walk.”

“...A walk?”

“Yes. For there is someone that I wish for you to meet.”

“Ummm,” Holly glances around Tyrannica’s library. “Who?”

Tyrannica traces a fingernail over the wings of the pendant. “Someone who is great at finding themselves in others.”

* * *

˜”*°•.˜”*°• Hey! I draw art for my stories sometimes. •°*”˜.•°*”˜

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/) | [Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

My Overlord stories:

[Child of Jörmungandr](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16873440/chapters/39625050) | [Across the Universe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959855/chapters/65801506) | [Tales of Artorian](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18738142/chapters/44447083) | [Humanity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008588/chapters/55013569)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> I love Tyrannica. ;-; My husband has done such a good job with her character. I adore writing her. 
> 
> As writers, we all have those few scenes that are the foundation of a story. The reason _why_ we wanted to write in the first place. For my part of this collaboration, my first chapter was one of those scenes. And my next chapter where I introduce a canon character from Destiny is another. He's a character that means a lot to me. But I'll save my dorking out for next time. Until then. 💖


	7. Destiny: The wall (Part four)

🌌|𝙰 𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚎’𝚜 𝙷𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗|🌌  


The wall  


_Part four: He who casts no shadow _

* * *

From the view of the Tower somehow the Last City sparkles underneath the shadow of the Traveler. It’s always like that, you see. All glitter, silver and gold. 

Holly places both hands on the bannister before her and looks out over the vast city. The sun is rising. Light spreads from the horizon towards the Tower. She watches as it crawls over buildings, fills in the gaps of streets, and then it washes over her armor and keeps on its merry way.

Despite the coming of the sun, a puff of air leaves Holly’s lips as she exhales. It’s cold outside today. She can feel the sting of ice in her fingers, toes, and the tips of her ears. It’s not a bad thing, though. For the most part it’s actually helping keep her awake.

Speaking of keeping awake… Holly hooks a finger at the neck of her chest piece and peels it back a bit. Resting inside the scoop of the breastplate lays Pandora, his blue screen dimmed. He’s so cute when he’s like this. All tuckered out. 

Most ghosts prefer to dematerialize at times like this. But it’s to Pandora’s favor to keep close to Holly’s heart. His words; Not hers. He’s corny like that. But Holly also thinks it’s cause he likes boobs.

Holly carefully pushes her chest piece back into place before resting her hand over her heart. She then sighs, smiles, and looks over her shoulder.

Off and to the side, on the back end of the postmasters kiosk where Tess Everis sets up shop, stands Tyrannica. The air around her back displaces as her sword, Torque as Holly learned, hums with an unearthly energy. It’s a little creepy. But then again… Warlocks are kinda creepy. Not in a bad way. Just in a way that Holly has trouble understanding.

Like Ikora. Ikora is stern, unflappable, and focused on the task at hand. Yet Holly’s seen her smile. Heard of her playing with a child in the streets. And then there’s the Speaker. A man who holes up in his study for days on end yet is always so welcoming to others. 

Holly glances towards Tyrannica. A collection of dusty red pigeons have collected near her feet, pecking at the grass. Tyrannica slips a hand into her robes. She scatters out more feed.

They’re contradictory, Warlocks. Yet they somehow make sense. Like chocolate and vanilla, silver and gold, or light and dark.

It’s a little creepy. But not in a bad way.

“He should be arriving shortly,” Tyrannica dusts her hands off on her robes. 

She said that thirty or so minutes ago. Yet, like clockwork, Holly hears the familiar clanks of steel greaves on concrete approaching. 

“Ahh, turtle dove!” A burly voice calls out to them, thick with a Russian accent. “So good to see you. Come, give hug.”

Holly turns her attention to the man walking towards them, revealing himself from the hallway underneath the stairs. Adorned in burnished silver armor, he looks more akin to a walking fortress over a man. He has wide shoulder pauldrons decorated with spikes. His chest piece is trimmed with gold and he’s got purple ribbons hanging down from the left hand side. 

His most striking feature, though? A spartan style helmet with a wide sweeping fanlike plume. Carved down the middle of the helmet there’s a leyline of purple light, flanked by divots and a few dents. 

Tyrannica walks into the man's arms, a blush in her cheeks. She stands almost a head taller than him and he laughs a laugh that’s everything warm while he takes her into a bear like hug. The man leans back and Tyrannica’s feet leave the ground for a moment. Holly winces as she hears Tyrannica’s back crack.

All Tyrannica does is chuckle in response. “It’s rude to keep a lady waiting.”

“My apologies,” He chuckles into a calm. “I am still getting used to… all this. It is a lot to take in. Yet I am glad to be here.”

“I know, I know. I missed—We all missed you,” Slipping a hand beneath the ribbons draped from his breastplate, Tyrannica smiles. “And then there are those who need you now as they needed you then.”

“There is no greater honor,” He hums with a mechanical pitch. Then he clears his throat. “Now then! Introductions, yes! I wish to meet this new--Aha! Hello!”

The man steps around Tyrannica and spreads his arms wide. “You must be the little Titan I heard about. Come! Hug!”

“Uhh,” Holly glances around.

“No hug? Okay, okay… we will get there.”

“Maybe a hand shake?” Holly steps forward.

She offers him her hand. The man takes it. Hard. But it’s not the type of grip that gives off a bad vibe. No. This is the kind that speaks of respect. Valor. And prowess. 

“It is good to meet you, friend. I am Saint 14.”

Holly’s eyes widen.

She’s heard of him before. The hero of Six Fronts. Slayer of Solkis, Kell of Devils. A man with light so bright that his Ward of Dawn blinds enemies.

And his most recent achievement, by aid of a guardian, is that he’s come back from the dead. Like, the _dead_ dead.

The paeans are true.

Holly grips his hand back. Firm. She smiles.

He really did walk into the demon light and come out brighter. 

“It’s um, really good to meet you too! I mean, you’re a legend among Titans. Well, everyone from what I hear, but, um, ya know. Same thing.”

“A legend,” Saint 14 chuckles and rubs at his neck. “You give too much credit. I merely do what I must to keep peace.”

Tyrannica touches his arm. “Still so humble. A rarity nowadays.”

“Ah, well. Shaxx is perhaps,” Saint 14 pauses. “Louder than I remember.”

“Oh man, you’re not wrong about that. Just the other day he was like,” Holly places both of her hands around her mouth and barks, “Guardian! Yes, you! You want the crucible?! I am the crucible!!!” She starts laughing. “And there were like, four of us walking by? And we all looked at him and then he shouted that he’d take us all on.”

“That sounds just like him,” Tyrannica muses.

Saint 14 slams a fist into his hand. “And did you call him up on this offer?! Hahaha! He is worthy opponent. One day I will have his other horn, rest assured.”

“Wait, how did he lose the first one?!”

“You do not know of this tale?!” Saint 14 exclaims. “Outrageous! Come. I must tell you story.”

“14,” Tyrannica warns. “You remember what happened last time—“

Holly glances between them, her smile growing wider by the second. “Last time?”

Saint 14 points to the dent in his helmet. “His Fist of Havoc is no joke.”

They all share a laugh.

“Very well, then,” Tyrannica sighs. “I’ve been around long enough to know when I should vacate the premises.”

“A moment,” Saint 14 reaches into one of his pockets. As a result, pigeons begin collecting around him in a halo. He coos at them while spreading out birdseed. Then he gestures between Tyrannica and the pigeons.

Tyrannica lifts a brow.

“Warlocks are like bird. Both float in air like ships and have robes of feathers. Just look at Osiris!” Saint 14 laughs, pointing at the pigeons. “Come, perhaps you would care to join them?”

Tyrannica blinks a few times. Lightning begins crackling around her fingertips as she smirks, “Careful, 14. Ikora isn’t the only Warlock that has a knack for the crucible.”

“Oh my god,” Holly whispers to herself, a hand over her mouth. “It was Ikora--”

“Careful, turtle dove. I do not take idle threats lightly,” Saint 14 purrs and puts his fists up. “As you know.”

“As I know,” Tyrannica hums. She leans into him. Placing her hands atop his, she whispers, “As I know.”

Holly’s lips frame around a perfect O. As if she were a child that had just caught her sibling stealing, she lets out a long _Oooooooh._

They both look at her. Tyrannica’s expression blanks.

Holly frowns. “What?”

“That’s my que,” Tyrannica slides a hand up to Saint 14’s shoulder and gives him a pat. “I should be on my way.”

“Mmmm,” Saint 14 hums. “It is late for you. Yes. Yet, the sun in your hair. It is beautiful. Like white fire on Mercury.”

Tyrannica sharply inhales. Then she closes her eyes and pats his shoulder a few more times. “Goodbye, 14. It is good to have you back.”

Saint 14 releases a heavy sigh. “I will see you again?”

“Perhaps,” Tyrannica smiles at Holly. “If ever you are lost, you will know where to find me.”

The air around Tyrannica displaces into a blurr. She vanishes with a flash of blue light.

Silence. 

Pigeons flock to her boot prints in the grass and begin pecking at the revealed specks of yellow.

“...It was somethin’ I said, wasn’t it.”

Saint 14 looks out over the city. He places his hands on the railing. “She comes and goes. Much like geese. They fly south for winter. Yet they always return home when the weather grows warm.”

“Sounds like a long story,” Holly takes her place beside Saint 14.

“No. Not quite. That, that is a story… that ended far too soon.”

“Oh,” Holly looks down at her greaves. “...I’m sorry.”

Saint 14 hums with acknowledgement, deep and rich from his throat. His mark flutters in the wind and slaps across his knee. A few pigeons hop onto the bannister near his knuckles. Over the tower intercom, Cayde-6 calls for a fireteam named Veistlock to meet at the vanguard table. Minutes later, the postmaster announces that she has a Suros shipment available for pickup by the gunsmith.

Holly’s posture wilts. “Maybe it’s kinda like that thing I’ve heard people say. Ya know, short but sweet? Maybe it was like that.”

Silence.

“Or...yeah. Yeahhh, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Saint 14 pats Holly on the back. “I am merely pensive, is all. Pay me no mind. Here of late, I find my thoughts harder and harder to connect. I have been… stretched thin. Many, many times. Even here as I stand I wonder if the Traveler’s light can reach me or if this is yet another reality that will fold in on itself until it collapses and begins all over again.”

“Yet you are here,” Saint 14 pats Holly’s back harder. “Which means I am here. Yes. I am here. It is good to be home.” 

“I wish I knew what to say to that. But, for what it’s worth? I’m really glad you’re home, too. Like, really glad. Even if I just met you.”

“I know of no greater words,” Saint 14 lays his hand to rest on her upper back. “Come. Give name, little Titan. Forgive these old nuts and bolts for I forgot to ask.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Holly huffs a laugh. The wind carries her hair over her shoulder as she says, “Holly. The name’s Holly.”

“Holly. Hmm. Yes. Holly. Little Holly. I like this name,” Saint 14 nods. “Turtle dove tells me that you are in need of counsel. While I respect her wisdom, I disagree. I think you need friend. I like this irony.”

“I need friend, too. We kill two birds with one stone. I… do not like this metaphor. But it is a good one.”

“You, you wanna be my friend?” Holly’s eyes sparkle. “R-Really?”

“Of course! I wish to have many friends. There is strength in numbers, little Holly. We cannot fight the darkness alone. We must shine bright. Together.”

Holly’s lip quivers. She turns to face him and touches her heart. “But that’s the thing. I-I don’t even know where to begin with that?? Or how. I feel so lost, I-I don’t know how to be a good friend, I don’t even know who I am--”

“I have spent one lifetime living many thousands. I know what it is to be lost,” Saint 14 gathers Holly’s hands up. “Come, friend. I will be your light in the dark.”

* * *

˜”*°•.˜”*°• Hey! I draw art for my stories sometimes. •°*”˜.•°*”˜

[Tumblr](https://download077.tumblr.com/) | [Deviantart](https://www.deviantart.com/download077)

My Overlord stories:

[Child of Jörmungandr](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16873440/chapters/39625050) | [Across the Universe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959855/chapters/65801506) | [Tales of Artorian](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18738142/chapters/44447083) | [Humanity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23008588/chapters/55013569)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ・:*☆ 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈 ☆*:・ 
> 
> I've been a defender Titan since year one of Destiny. Ever since you could unlock it at level 15. The Fist of Havoc didn't really fit my play style, but the Ward of Dawn absolutely did. But that's coming from someone who has always defaulted to tank/support in video games. I'm a D.Va/Brig main in Overwatch, Maya in Borderlands 2, Legion in Titanfall 2, and... _Okay so maybe I'm a Great Sword main in Monster hunter but come on. I've gotta spread my wings at times, alright?_ But that doesn't mean I don't carry life powder/dust of life. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 
> 
> There weren't many of us back in the day that played the defender Titan subclass. Ward of Dawn was the only non combative super, after all. But my god, ya'll. If you were a bubble Titan you were loved. It was generally the class no one wanted to play but everyone wanted someone to play. Especially during raids. And both my husband and I were defender Titan mains. 💖 We were the ones popping weapons of light bubbles for sword bearers against Crota, the ones throwing them up on the middle platform against Atheon, the raid members that got them out in time for the final DPS stage against Oryx, etc. And we took a lot of pride in that. And we received even more love in return for it. 
> 
> So where am I going with all of this nostalgia talk? Oh, yes. Saint 14. The OG Defender Titan whose Exotic helmet I've been wearing since Destiny year one. We didn't know much about him but I always felt endeared to his character since I ran around as his subclass and wore his helmet. And... okay. Here we go. For those that don't know, Saint 14 was presumed dead. However, in D2, they brought him back. And I won't lie. I took a break after the Osiris stuff in D2 because I didn't like what they did with Osiris's character. He was this legend that had _so much_ weight behind him and... it all just fell flat for me. So when they said they were bringing Saint 14 back into the picture? I was terrified. 
> 
> When we found Saint 14 in the Infinite Forest, dead and drained of his light, but venerated by the Vex for reasons unbeknownst to them and floating over a small patch of flowers? I choked up. So I was scared when they said they were bringing him back because I didn't want them to do to him what they did to Osiris. I was afraid they'd take this character I loved and ruin him. I was afraid they'd make him something he wasn't, that he wouldn't live up to my expectations, that he wouldn't be Saint 14. He wouldn't be the man who stepped into the demon light and came out brighter. 
> 
> Never before have I been so incredibly wrong. I love, no, I **adore** what they've done with him. He strikes the perfect balance of hardened war sage, teddy bear, and over excitable dork. And his Russian accent? Makes the character. And I loved so much of what they did with him that I wanted to write him myself. I wanted to write him as a mentor to Holly, because both of them would get something out of that. Saint 14 lives for his accolades and helping others, and Holly is a character that is best paired with someone she can learn from. It's mutually satisfying. And damn it, he's totally a comfort character for me. When I'm playing D2 and need to head to the tower, I always take a pit stop over to Saint 14 in the hangar just so I can chill with him for a bit and listen to his dialogue. And watch him feed his pigeons. 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy what I do with his character, moving forward. Until next time! 💖


	8. Destiny: Chains of woe (Part two)

🔗|𝙰 𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚎’𝚜 𝙷𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗|🔗  


Chains of woe  


_Part two: Sword logic _

* * *

It was hard to think of the Moon as anything other than a dead rock festering with worms, leeches, and maggots. Desiccated dust heaving and churning with what should not be considered as life. I’ve trekked through many near and far reaches. The swamps of Old Chicago are teaming with rot and decay. But in a natural way. The way that life was supposed to handle the cycle of decay, death, then rebirth.

Glittering fragments of spaceports once used by Earth as a launching point into the rest of the solar system either remained in the tangled mess of the Moon’s orbit or lay in graveyard craters across its surface.

The Hive guarded its secrets, its rituals, its gods, more tightly than any material wealth. This could be exploited. No sweeter balm than the one meant to quench your enemy’s thirst.

I sat on a hammock of sorts made of Torque’s chains near the top of a glassy obelisk. It stood apart from typical Hive architecture because of its unusual simplicity as well as symmetry. The Hive buildings tended towards neither of those things. Their philosophies were expressed in every uneven whorl, every malignant pit of rust or other imperfection. It was clearly not simply a product of the age. They had been on the Moon for some time. By the standards of the Hive, barely a season.

This obelisk being so uniform and its material so unusually polished, its glassy surface scoured smooth by lunar dust carried by lunar wind, clearly indicated something of note. It was not the first I’d found, though it was the most intact.

He was simply known as the Apostate.

A Hive Acolyte, or perhaps a heathen Knight, the accounts were less than clear. For whatever reason, he had gotten into his mouldering head to leave his sect. If he had managed to kill his way up through challenge, he might have even succeeded in leaving the Hidden Swarm. But he was punished for some unspeakable offense. These obelisks were all that remained.

Torque probed the monument, carefully examining its features and trying to lock down the slippery runes that swam in shoals beneath the surface. His voice crawled across my HUD and washed against my mind. I didn’t need to read the words to know what they said.

_//:Composition: Crystalized resin lattice. Unknown origin. Traces of Thrall marrow. Compressed bodies? Liquified osseous byproduct of other Hive construction? Bone is common building material. Possible correlation. Prime-rune followed by a triptych repeating sequence. Unknown grammatical syntax. Identifiable nomenclature of the Apostate._

_This monument has more secondary sprouts that extend underground. Check and see if they’re configurable._

_//:Yes, Mistress._

I uncrossed my arms, turning at the telltale whine of a Sparrow engine. The radio in my helmet crackled. Some Warlocks eschewed practical headwear. Those Warlocks tended to die repeatedly to blunt force trauma and terminal ballistics through the cranium. Besides, true auguries of the world required many lenses. Light filtration. Spectrum analysis. Neutrino scattering. Reticles formed through data feeds from Torque over the vehicle, displaying the Sparrow’s direction, speed, and zoomed in on the rider.

“Miss Tyrannica? Is that you?”

Hm, I knew this Titan.

“Ah, Holly! An unexpected pleasure. What brings you here, Starlight?” I surprised myself with my tone. I was genuinely glad to see her. Holly turned her Sparrow and brought it to a stop near the base of the obelisk far below me.

_//:Mistress likes small Titan._

I smiled behind my helmet.

“Uh, ya know, just doing some patrollin’ and stuff.” She reclined back in her seat, looking up at me and around at the spikes of the obelisk emerging around the area.

Holly’s Ghost broke into the conversation with all the subtlety of a brick.

“It was to our highest of hopes to uncover a hidden stash of goodies pertaining to the Hive!”

The Ghost flashed into existence and darted around, busying himself with scanning everything in sight before Holly could grab him. Nothing like a little treasure hunting. There was an honesty in that.

“So, what’re you doing?” She wondered.

“I’m glad you asked. In fact, I think you might be able to help me.” I turned back to the obelisk.

“Yeah, sure. I’d be glad to. Um... what’re you doing?”

“I think this might be the most intact monument built by, or about, the Apostate. He was a Hive that the rest of his sect killed for supposed heresy. If you’re interested, I might be on the trail of some ‘goodies’.”

“And what might be the nature behind these supposed goodies that you may or may you not be referring to, hm? Better yet, how may we be of assistance?” Her ghost darted up to me, scanning and blinking the whole way. I pointed to one of the outer growths of the obelisk.

“Kindly see if you can turn that one fifteen degrees towards Sol. I have a feeling that the reason the other obelisks of this kind were inert is because their mechanisms of use were broken.”

Holly shrugged and moved over to the outcropping I had indicated. She rolled her neck and grunted in exertion over the radio as she strained against the weight of the thing as I watched her reflection. The material seemed to have some fluid properties as it twisted, the sharp edges bending into a helix shape. Runes that were previously flickering disappeared entirely.

“Solward, liebling. The other way.”

Holly grumbled in response and reversed the twist. There we go. The runes flashed, then steadied into constant visibility. I pondered aloud.

“What might a Hive have done to warrant his censure by other Hive? And what is the purpose of these monuments? Signs seem to indicate that they were not built as warnings?”

_//:Truth glyphs continuing in Apostate syntax. Wrath. Wrath. No secret. Interesting. Not even contextual secret glyph. Brazen. Translation easy, but disjointed. Seems to be angled towards sharing truth rather than concealing._

“It would be wise to pivot those that remain in a similar fashion, ja?” Holly’s Ghost asked.

“Yes, it seems to be working.” I nodded, not taking my eyes off the shifting runes.

“By we you mean me, Pandora.”

“Jaja, liebling. I have no arms. Tis only fair.”

Holly had to twist and turn several pieces to find the right configuration. As soon as the glyphs finally overlapped, there was a deep rumbling. The whole structure seemed to lose solidity. Torque’s chains sank through the quickly liquefying obelisk to seize the Truth glyphs as they spiraled away. As soon as he touched them, the top part of the monument burst into cyan flames. I was forced to jump clear as the Hive glyphs seemed to trigger a deeper reaction and the area began to sink.

Fortunately, Holly had gotten to safety and we both stood, watching the monument melt into the hole like wax. I peered down the chasm that had opened. The cyan flames seemed to burrow into the lunar bedrock down into the unknown.

“Does Truth have a price, maybe? Or perhaps it lays below? Well, that’s an easy one to find out.” I stepped off the edge down into the black, following the distant flow of the cyan flames as they continued to burn.

“Tyrannica!” Holly called after me. Her concern was touching, but unnecessary. Even without the ability to slow my descent, Torque would have caught me.

What I was not expecting was for Holly to rocket past me scant seconds later. Her Ghost zipped after her in a panic. More than a few seconds later I heard cursing over the radio, a hurried blast of a Titan’s lift, then a dull thud.

At the bottom of the hole that the obelisk had burned was a wide platform full of the usual Hive detritus and a crumpled Holly.

“Ow, my freakin’ back.” She managed to spit out as her Ghost quickly patched her broken self back together.

“Oh, dear. I didn’t think you’d jump straight after me. Well, up and up, Starlight. Walk it off, as Shaxx says.”

“I don’t think… Shaxx is as dainty or-ow. Ladylike.”

“Just because we’re ladies doesn’t mean we’re dainty, little Titan.”

It was clear which way we should go. There was only one open door. A trail of cyan fire flowed into a trench leading off somewhere further on. The screams were quick to follow. Scrabbling claws on once hallowed stone.

“What’s…?” Holly straightened up with a crack, spewing a string of curses as her ghost flitted down into the safety of her armor. She seemed to hesitate, not quite sure what to do before a louder roar kicked her into gear. I watched, waiting patiently to make sure her training kicked in. A swift boot kick knocked over a stack of spiky crates that Holly set the barrel of her rifle on to steady her aim and act as cover.

Saint 14 has been training her well.

_//:Arc reserves holding steady at ninety-eight percent. We are the storm._

Torque’s words and data streamed through my mind. Three of his chains came up, blue discharge dancing between his links as he formed the ball of blue Arc energy in my waiting palm. It was a jittery thing. It wanted release. A direction. So I sent it forward. The ball lightning zipped off down the dark corridor, bolts of energy reaching out into the oncoming wave of Thralls. Several were zapped into oblivion, their charred corpses being swept away by the tide of desiccated flesh and teeth.

With the spark to light the way, Holly opened up with her auto rifle. Short, controlled bursts aimed at center mass. Tracers were interspaced in the extended magazines she had brought. It was good to see Guardians who took the battlefield utility of literal light to heart.

This was now an active combat zone, and I pulled my hand cannon out of its holster. It was a twisted, blackened thing. It was carved during a dark time. But for all the hate and unmaking it did and still had to do, it was a reliable tool. One of Torque’s limbs snaked around my wrist, slotting into the grip of the gun.

Holly’s bursts became longer as the Thrall got closer.

Torque threw up a net of chains across the open passage. Green eyes could be seen between the flashing Arc discharge. Frontrunners ran full speed into the chains and were chopped into smoldering chunks. Holly, still cursing, reloaded and held her trigger down. Enough bodies piled up that the ones behind were insulated. Automatic fire lopped off limbs while the mass heaved against the chains.

A daring beast tried to leap over everyone. My cannon answered with a distorted flash the color of rending reality. The Thrall’s top half was ripped into pieces. Two more tried. And two more died. Not long after, the last of the bone bags stopped twitching. Torque retracted his chains, the pile of bodies sagging as they melted into brackish rot.

Holly broke cover, kicking through a pile of spent casings as her ghost blinked from the top of her chest armor.

“Sheesh, did we kick the hornet’s nest? I must’ve blown through a couple hundred rounds.”

Flicking open the cylinder of my cannon, Torque reloaded individual shells before I snapped it back into place.

“Oh no, dear, that was just the alarm. Hive use Thrall for all kinds of things. Building material. Emergency rations. Clearing minefields. I know Guardians who have been overrun by Thrall alone due to running out of ammunition.”

“So, I still don’t quite get what we’re doing.”

Taking Torque in one hand and holding my cannon at the ready, I trudged through the decaying mush blocking the door to follow the trail of fire.

“An excellent question.”

“It wasn’t… Ugh.” I heard wet bones snapping behind me as Holly followed me through the muck.

“Once there was a little Acolyte who thought he could transcribe death itself. The Apostate.”

The soft blue light did not leave the safety of Holly’s chest.

“Oh! Oh! I have heard of this nefarious creature! He worked on fabricating a memetic language that could spread like that of a virus! It was to his belief that words could transcribe a path to the Darkness itself.”

“Very good. But what was he excommunicated for?”

“Um,” Holly pitched in. “Being… Too evil?”

“It’s unclear. He found something, or was on the verge of something, or started spreading heretical teachings, and was destroyed for it. But, he had followers who sealed away caches of his work. Supposedly, they left behind the monuments. Whether as a warning, or as a guide, is also unclear.”

We walked for a short while. Only a few miles by Torque’s measurements. We passed many junctions. Some sealed. Some not. It was always hard to tell on Luna what was freshly traversed and what had laid still for centuries. There we found our next obstacle.

A door, chopped crudely into the surrounding passage. The channel of teal fire kept going underneath it. A singularly massive lock was centered on it. Vengeance runes covered in Reprisal and Death. The Apostate pissed off someone very high up on the food chain. I unsheathed Torque. Resting his tip against the center of the lock, I pushed into the divot scoured into the metal at the center. Sinking him into the rune until he could go no further.

_//:Pathetic. Not maintained. All force. Anger. No subtlety. Many traps, but too obvious._

“This won’t take long.”

“Why do they lock stuff up so tight?” Holly let out an exasperated sigh. I couldn’t help but smile. She was stained and dirtied, the shine on her armor dulled by dust caked on by ichor. Yet she still carried herself like a Titan.

I considered her naivety. Not in a bad way.

As the lock was cracked and the door opened, the moment of distraction cost me.

The only warning I had was a roar that shook the floor before an Ogre’s fist slapped me away. Stunned for a moment, I hit the wall hard. Holly was calling my name. Now, I was annoyed. In a critical lapse, I had allowed myself to be caught by surprise. Sloppy. I needed to get up. The Ogre was coming fast, though my hands were numb from the impact.

A warcry drew the Hive’s attention. Something stepped between me and the abomination, Void light swirling around its fists.

Holly threw her hands out, and an immovable, inviolable dome appeared. A piece of the Traveller’s will, of Light, given shape and purpose.

With an agitated gesture, I blinked through reality, traveling as Arc. Now behind and above the Ogre, I pointed Torque downward and drove him straight into the back of the beast’s bulbous skull. There was a crunch as my blade cracked bone, then a dull thump once I had buried him to the hilt. Twitching and gurgling, the Ogre struggled, turning to the side as it pawed blindly at the air before finally falling to the ground.

I grunted in pain as projectiles filled the air, a few burning my robes. With another blink, I retreated to the safety of Holly’s Light. Shredder bolts splashed harmlessly across her Ward of Dawn. She really has been taking her lessons seriously. I had to squint my dark eyes against the glare, even inside my helmet. My head felt like it was a bruised fruit stuck in a horned helm.

Focus. Acolytes were approaching, still firing away. With a thought, Torque’s chains passed through Holly’s Ward and lashed through the oncoming Hive like electrified whips through paper. Several Knights were right behind them. They were formed into a shieldwall, advancing with their blades at the ready. Just as I was considering the best attack angle, Holly leaned out the side of her Ward with a rocket launcher on her shoulder.

One trail of smoke and explosion later, chunks of Knight were pattering off the barrier. As the tunnel fell quiet once again, I closed my eyes against the glare of Holly’s Light. Torque was already working on fixing my mistakes as he always did.

I was surprised when Holly grabbed my shoulders, carefully touching the scuff marks on my helmet. Her Ward of Dawn pulled back towards her, leaving only the teal fire as the only source of illumination once again.

“Tyrannica, how are you feeling? Everything where it’s supposed to be? Here, I have some water from the City. You might think it lame, but I think rainwater that’s come off the Traveler tastes better.” Holly held out her canteen.

I was about to decline when an ache below my tongue let me know that yes, maybe a drink would help. Lifting my headgear for just a moment, I washed away the dust in my mouth and throat. The one swallow was strangely soothing to my stomach. I handed back the canteen, pulling my helmet back down.

“Thank you, Holly. It does taste better.”

As we set off again, I thought about how to make this journey more rewarding for Holly. I felt I owed it to her.

“Understanding the enemies of the Light is vital to fighting them.” I began, pondering her question at the door.

“You sound like Ikora.”

“Actually, Saint-14 is the one who said that.” Blinking a few times, Holly’s ghost peaked out. She was quick to stuff him back down her chestplate.

“Saint-14 is an expert on Fallen. You could have no better teacher in that regard. But Fallen are not the only things that creep and crawl, even on Earth.”

Under most circumstances, I wouldn’t have bothered lecturing a Guardian. Holly was still young, and I felt compelled to guide her. Hopeful. Here was living proof that the Traveller was still raising new Guardians. The thought of seeing Holly’s name on a Tower memorial filled me with more melancholy than I would admit.

If my own lessons could keep that from happening...

“One thing you will learn is that the Hive are a craven sort. We outsiders only see the united force moving against the Light. An inexorable tide of teeth and mummified flesh. What we don’t see is the power struggle that occurs on a regular basis. There are bridges in the lower Hellmouth that have been fought over by sub-sects of Knights for centuries. While they will unite against outside forces, the higher authorities of Hive will turn on each other the moment any threat is dealt with. You don’t see it so much with the spawn. The Thralls or Acolytes. It has more to do with Knights or Wizards. Those who have survived long enough to have something to lose.”

The Hive’s macabre architecture was actually helpful in illustrating my point. Skulls had been used to shore up a fault line in one wall, with several breeds of monster stacked in their social hierarchy.

“It is mostly a self-balancing system. Once a high enough overlord has taken his place at the top, things stabilize. That is not to say that they go without challenge. Far from it. There are prisons within the Dreadnought full of would-be usurpers even to Oryx’s throne. The Moon has its fair share as well. If there’s one thing the Hive lacks is a sense of irony.”

Whether she was interested or not, Holly was clearly paying attention.

“What irony are they missing?”

“A good question. What irony do you think they miss, Holly?”

“Um… I’m drawin’ blanks here.”

“They adhere to something called Sword Logic. Simply put, survival of the fittest. That only the being who can kill the best should survive. Now, do you ever see a single Hive?”

“No, they travel in packs.”

“Even at its simplest level, the greater Hive still use tools. Every Wizard doesn’t make its own robes. The Kings don’t build their castles. Or ships for that matter. According to some accounts supposedly penned by Oryx himself, the Hive only exist as they are because the lowest castes of Hive only consume what energy or resources necessary to their own survival and pass the rest along. That without this system in place, the ones at the top would starve in a sense. For all their talk about surviving beyond death, they certainly don’t try to find anything more sustainable.”

“Pfft, so much for survival of the fittest. It seems like this Sword Logic is just their excuse for them to have Kings or whatever that can cut off heads better than everyone else.”

As the trail we had been following at last reached its conclusion, the path opened into a chapel-like construct seemingly formed of melted emeralds. I motioned to the unusually well wrought area.

“That is the lesson I want you to learn from the Hive. That although they may talk about power, it just comes down to selfishness. It's not the triumph of one, it's ignoring the contributions of others. It is the nature of the Darkness, be they Hive or otherwise, to credit the work of their slaves to that of their own hand.”

Outside the threshold of the final door was a ring of swords all stabbed into the ground. It reminded me of a cordon around an infected area. The final gate was unlocked, and opened freely at our approach.

Inside the sealed vault were reams upon reams of parchment, stone slabs, and even rolled bundles of leather. Pools of ink still bubbled in some spots while most had calcified. Symbols layered on symbols had been splattered over every available surface. Strange writing implements occupied everywhere not taken up by something else. Against the far wall there was a monumental pile of books. Most prominently, hundreds of bones filled with ink were stabbed into the books. Some were so clustered with piercings that their pages were held apart like insect specimens.

Careful to make sure there were no traps, Torque retrieved the one intact tome from the top of the pile. There was a single bone quill jammed into the cover. Pulling it free, I noticed that the quill was carved so very delicately into resembling a traditional hive sword.

_//:Ironic._

I let out a short laugh.

“Hah! How fitting. I don’t think the Apostate intended this. Holly, what do you know about old Earth phrases? What might strike fear into the hearts of those who live by the sword?”

I held out the carved bone for Holly to take. Her ghost popped out, his pieces spinning excitedly.

“Haha! Never fear, for I know of this Earthly turn of expression! May I?”

Holly’s smile could be heard even over the radio.

“Go ahead, Pandora.”

“The pen, mademoiselle! The pen is mightier than the sword.”

* * *

𝕸𝖞 𝕺𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖘𝖙𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘:

[Voracity](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21008861/chapters/49964042) | [Black Sky Legion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17666051/chapters/41665433)

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Until next my words reach you, gentle reader, be safe, be well, and may the Traveler light your way.


	9. Destiny: Shadow's Edge (Part two)

☯|𝙰 𝙺𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚒𝚍𝚘𝚜𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚎’𝚜 𝙷𝚢𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚒𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙲𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗|☯  


Shadow's Edge  


_Part two: Bait and Switch _

* * *

There was a poetic sort of irony to it, really.

Demiurge has seen the ghost earlier, scouring the nooks and crannies of the cosmodrome. It dove between sheets of rusted metal, wiggled around thorny brush, swung like bait on a string before spotting a new place to check. He could guess what it had been up to; searching for something that called to it, something it could reclaim as a Guardian. Something upon which it could bestow life.

He, on the other hand, had been making his way after his own quarry with a considerably greater amount of stealth, looking to do rather the opposite to the creature in his sights. He had been planning to bestow death.

That had been the intent, when he followed the Fallen dreg back to it’s master.

And now here he hid, breath ragged, hole torn into his chest and blood fertilizing the soil, while lines of healing white streamed from the little floating machine, granting the gift it had been yearning to give… to a crumpled corpse at his side.

Between him and the ghost, Demiurge would have given himself much better odds of success. He had expected to find the shattered shell among the rubble after completing his own tasks. Planned it, even. Yet in the end, the ghost had indeed found life. And he had found death.

Thus, poetic irony.

He laughed, staining the corners of his lips with bluish blood as he grinned. His glowing eyes strove to focus on the small machine as it glanced back, enveloped in it’s task and yet obviously caught off guard by the Awoken man who had just stumbled into it’s little alcove. He let his gaze droop to take in the slowly reconstructing corpse.

“If there is any Light left in me,” he wheezed behind the smile, “it is a rather unique privilege to witness just how it’s energy might be reallocating at it’s departure.”

The ghost glanced over at him again, fins rotating with a bit more nervous staccato as it rose to look over the wall he slid down against. “Light; it is seen, but never heard.” The whisper was feminine, quiet, and radiated just as much anxiety as the movements.

“You’ll hear that group long before they hear us, have no worry over that.” Demiurge felt the gravel of the wall scrape the open area in the back of his armor as he slid, but at this point, it elicited no more than a dull throb across his nerves. “There’s still a moment’s peace to be found in these shadows.”

“...Lives by the light,” the ghost replied. It’s voice had turned soft, and now it’s iris was focused on the fading Awoken. “And dies when they meet.”

“Rather clever. But are you speaking… of shadows, ghost? Or of myself?” He tried to laugh again, but the bark came out as no more than a whimper. “There is more… truth in the words than you could know.” The hue of his skin had lightened to match the earthen sky, color pooled around him. “This is not the end I want.” His eyes were growing dim. “But I do appreciate you lending a bit of… metaphoric symbolism to it.”

A howl sounded in the distance, and the ghost jumped in the realization that it had stopped scanning. It looked between the remains below it and the man at their side. The man could no longer discern the movements.

“Give your Guardian my apologies,” he breathed, a last smile darkly bared. “It seems… their first trial will… be one… of fire.”

And his eyes went dark.

* * *

“—within and without evermore!”

_Boom—sshhhhh-taptap-click-click-click—_

“What does any of that even mean?! _What_ is going _on_?!”

“Belief of the one brings the death of the seco—!”

“ _I don’t know what’s going on, what do you—_ ”

BOOM

The back of Demiurge’s eyelids burned with a flash, and he snapped awake.

Another explosion erupted over him, and he quickly shut his eyes as he lurched upright from his slump. Explosion? Hadn’t he been dying? In what sort of afterlife were there explos—

BOOOM

The rush of heat from that one had not felt like the experience of a dead man.

In fact, he would categorize the sensation as very tied to a mortal plane. A mortal plane in immediate jeopardy.

He twisted around, on his feet and crouching in an instant to peer over the half wall behind him. If for some strange reason he was still alive, he certainly wasn’t wasting it.

There they were. The Fallen that had been pursuing him. The minions of his quarry, whose numbers were much, much greater than he had anticipated.

And one of them had a rocket launcher.

Lovely.

“Why are these people shooting at—?!”

There was a woman crouched behind the wall next to him, facing away and arguing with a very jittery looking ghost. A pulse rifle was set at her side against the wall. _His_ pulse rifle.

She jumped as Demiurge grabbed the gun, checking the magazine while glancing back over the wall. He ducked as someone fired at the movement. “You’re alive,” she said, seemingly shocked.

“To your benefit as well as mine,” he returned. “It seems your ghost was able to revive you, as well as gift you my weapon; and yet you haven’t done anything to progress that rather generous start.” He readied the gun, popped up from the wall, and took a single shot before dropping back down. A cry sounded out from across the field. “You’ll make a rather poor Guardian at this ra—”

He had turned to look at her, and was stunned at the closeness of her face. Light blue, with eyes to match, and hair that shone like the dark edges of a nebula. She was attentive even though obviously overwhelmed, and her eyes jumped from the gun in his hands back to him.

“—te… So. I. Suppose… the task falls to me.”

“Guardian of what? A ghost?? Do you know what’s going on?? Why are we getting shot at?!”

Demiurge glanced at the ghost, who swayed a little closer. “The key to progress, the answer to victory. It inches towards the edge.”

“Well, aren’t you a pair,” he muttered. “It seems I can’t blame you for your confusion.” He paused, lifted up, shot, and dropped as another screech rang out. “You are a Guardian,” he began, “and to make a long story very short, you have been brought to life to protect the Light. And these creatures shooting at us,” another rocket exploded just past their makeshift bunker, “are willing to do anything to take that Light for themselves. Therefore, it would be wonderful if you could tap into whatever special powers that little machine has just granted you, and find a way to assist me. You now have a lifeline of revival through your ghost, Guardian, but I still very much would like to avoid dying. And in return,” he glanced over the wall again, “I can offer you passage on my ship. I’ll take you as far as—argh—!”

A scout rifle bolt clipped his shoulder and he barked, the force of the blow aiding his retreat back down. The woman was next to him in an instant, pressing her hands over the wound.

“Shoot—let me see—you’re ok, it’s pretty surface,” she said, a levelness coming to her voice. The change in demeanor was quick and automatic; this action certainly came to her more easily than firing a weapon, it seemed. If Demiurge remembered correctly, there was a skillset among the warlocks that she would likely fuse well with. If she could survive long enough to have such paths explored, that was. Already she was feeling at the edges of the robe she had been covered with, trying to tear an edge to make a bandage—

Demiurge froze. Grabbed at her wrist. And amid her protests, stared at the color of the blood staining her hand.

It was red. Not blue. And the hand that grasped hers…

He was human.

Then the little ghost snuck in between them both. It aimed lines of light at the wound. And the pain vanished.

Time seemed to slow. Demiurge looked at the floating mechanical entity, pieces falling into impossible place.

“What,” he croaked hollowly, “have you done.”

The woman ran a few fingers over the new skin, testing the realness of the vanished injury. “It can heal you!! Oh, that’s great!” She didn’t seem to understand. Of course she didn’t understand.

Demiurge grit his teeth and took in a deep breath. “This will be discussed and rectified,” he promised in a sideways growl to the ghost. “But for now…” he raised his head again, taking the time to pull off two shots rather than just the one, “these wretched parasites have just lost the advantage to this fight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I understand the intricacies of how a Ghost works? No. Have I read the wiki? Sure, kinda. Did I find anything in there that says a Ghost could ever have two Guardians at once?? Ha, yeah, also no. Very much no.
> 
> Is that going to stop me from having fun in our little AU and making up my own logic? Absolutely not! Bring on the speculative space-magic (mis)interpretations, I have a what-if scenario to play out!!
> 
> Besides, two Guardians for the price of one, along with ample opportunity for cheesy tropes?? How in the world can I say no to that?!
> 
> [ 🔥RLotSF Tumblr🔥](https://reallifeonthetheseventhfloor.tumblr.com/)
> 
> ♡♡ Just a place to keep inspiration for my fic, Demiurge stuff, all that jazz. ♡♡


End file.
